There Was Nowhere to Rave
by syrraki
Summary: It started when the Slytherins decided they needed a new place to hang out in.
1. Chapter 1

This is completely crazy and off the top of my head. No plot, little sanity. Probably bad grammar. Unlikely to be finished, which makes very little difference as there was no plot to begin with.

Disclaimer: Would JK really write this stuff???? But no, it's not mine. It's the Pope's. He said so.

Also, appologises to anyone who is on my author alert and thought this was going to be..good :P cause it's not.

It started when the Slytherins decided they needed a new place to hang out in. And someone, probably some stupid first year who'd heard the rumour mentioned they should use the Chamber of Secrets, after all, it was their inheritance. After the kid got punched, which with hindsight isn't really fair but you know, it's Slytherin, they started talking and it turned out that you know, really, having a secret room that belonged to your house but you had never seen was a bit stupid. Everyone discussed it, and it was decided a national disaster that the only students that had seen the chamber in the last fifty years or so had been Gryffindors, and Harry Potter at that. Something had to be done, it was agreed.

The next thing that happened was that Harry Potter found that he kept hearing a little voice in his head, a little whiny and not particularly persuasive telling him to open the Chamber. Harry didn't want to do this, there didn't seem much point, not to mention he hated the chamber, hated that he could open it, hated that he was a parslemouth. Generally, the boy had a lot of hate. But hey, we saw that in book five, right? All that smashing and grabbing, man was he angry. Anyway, so then, he was like "The hell?" Cause he didn't know why he had this little voice telling him to do things he didn't want to do. For a bit, he thought it was Voldemort, but it didn't feel the same as in the graveyard, and it was far easier to resist. He thought about telling Hermione, but Hermione was pretty annoying, and just said things like "Are you sure it wasn't a dream Harry?" and "Go tell Dumbledore," and "Snape is innocent!" which is true, but Harry didn't like to believe it, until much later, when he decided that he really liked the guy, enough to give his kid the same middle name. Not enough to have another kid. Which is stupid, because we all know about Weasley fertility. The way things probably worked out was that after a bit, Ginny got pregnant again, and Harry was all out of names. Which is his own fault. Anyway, he didn't tell Ron either. I dunno why, ask him. But he was pretty good at throwing off the voice, and so it wasn't of particular bother to him.

Then this one time, he was walking down the corridor and he suddenly felt the urge, but it was much stronger. He suddenly felt that perhaps going down to the Chamber and opening it was an awesome idea. But still, this is Harry Potter, so he didn't go and do it, he just turned around and looked for anyone pointing their wand at him, looking a bit sinister like. He saw Draco Malfoy standing in the corner, with his wand pointing towards Harry, looking pretty sinister like, but a bit exasperated actually.

"What are you doing Malfoy?" Asked Harry, and was relieved to feel the spell lift. Malfoy scowled at him.

"I am _trying_ to imperio you, but some people are just so damn stubborn!" He huffed, glaring at Harry.

"Well, as relieved as I am to know that I'm not going mad and someone really is imperioing me, why the hell are you imperioing me to go down to the chamber of secrets?"

"It's a secret," said Draco with shifty eyes. The kind that suggest that some persuasion will be sufficent to get him to spill the beans.

"Can I persuade you to spill the beans?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow; a skill that had taken three hours of staring into a crystal ball to perfect.

"Perhaps," said Draco, in a non commital way, ruined by the not so subtle nodding he was trying to pull off.

"How?" asked Harry, not realising that this could end badly for him.

Draco thought for a moment.

"Can you think of a good adjective to describe my hair?" he asked seriously.

"Uhm. Blond?"

"Been done."

"Shiny?"

"Thank you, but I think that might have been done."

"So soft it could stop a rampaging hippogryff in it's tracks?"

"That's good!" exclaimed Draco. "Although hardly an adjective, but you never had grammer lessons did you?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"What's the secret then?" He asked eagerly, now that he had fufilled his part of the deal. And yes he changed moods from sad to eager very quickly but you know he's got a multi dimensional personality, ooh that sounds long and appropriately complex, yeah, that's why.

"The Slytherins want to hold raves in the Chamber of Secrets," disclosed Draco blandly. Harry's eyes widened.

"Omigosh!" he said loudly, causing a Hufflepuff girl named NICOLA HALL to jump a little, because she was walking past. "Omigosh," he repeated more quietly. "On behalf of the Gryffindors, I want in."

"Gryffindorks," Draco corrected.

"Gryffindorks," Harry agreed. "No wait," Harry disagreed. "Never mind," Harry said.

"Hmm, I suppose you could have Tuesday nights," said Draco, looking at something in the distance.

"What are you looking at?" Asked Harry, craning his neck.

"My thoughts," said Draco. Harry nodded and looked at a brick on the wall.

"We want Friday nights!" demanded Harry.

"Tuesday and Wednesday."

"Thursday, Friday and Sunday!"

"Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday, that's my last offer."

"Well I don't see why you should have any days, you can't get in without me," said Harry, puffing out his chest.

"Good point. Okay, can't we share?"

"Mkaii," said Harry.

And then that would have been fine. By fine, I mean...well there would have been a lot of fights, tripping over of Basilisk corpses and the matter of having to call up Fawkes every time they wanted a lift out...but you know, fine. Except it wasn't fine. Because Harry told Ron et Hermione. And Ron told Padma Patil who he was trying to impress cause he heard a rather lewd rumour about her and wanted to find out if it was true- purely so that he could scream "ewwww coooties!" but still. And Hermione told Ernie Macmillian, 'cause she finally realised what with them both being huge geeks, they should get together and "study." Which is a joke within itself, because that's what they'd actually do. Study. And discuss whether colour coded notes really worked.

So then all of a sudden all the houses knew. And they were going there every night. EVEN HERMIONE AND ERNIE. But they just sat in the corner and whispered sweet ancient runes to each other. Can you say a rune? I dunno. Not tried. You?

And that is how Draco and Ginny met. Yeah, you heard me, this is a d/g fic. You didn't know? What? You hate the pairing? Man, sucks to be you.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the TWO REVIEWS. I guess the title didn't really catch anyone else's attention. Oh well, their loss. Obviously this fic is a work of art. Here's the next part, hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I'm a fish. Not JKR.

Here's an excerpt from the previous chapter:

"So soft it could stop a rampaging hippogryff in it's tracks?"

"Wait a second, how do you know how soft my hair is?" Asked Draco, suddenly protective. He patted his hair, checking that it was one hundred percent smooth and twenty percent soft. The poor baby, he can't do maths.

Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights. oh you know what's just occured to me? How Harry's patronus is a stag, which is a male deer. Never mind.

"I may have noticed..." mumbled Harry, trying madly to supress thoughts of how lovely Draco's hair was, how soft, how delicious to run his fingers through, to gently lick...

"Potter..." started Draco, taking a few predatory steps towards the quivery Harry, who increased his rate of quivering exponentially. "Do you have a crush on me?" Draco looked at him with deep, grey eyes that seemed to see into his retina and then along his nerves into the cerebral cortext of his brain. Harry could hardly breath, so busy was he drowning in the grey irises, and the dark retina which led along Draco's nerves to his medulla oblongata. He suddenly realised that Draco had shockingly long eyelashes.

"I've thought of an adjective for your eyelashes," Harry mumbled, fearing to meet Draco's piercing retinas, but trying to impress him with adjectives. "Your eyelashes are as long as a baby giraffe's"

"That's good!" exclaimed Draco, loosing interest. You could only look at retinas for so long. "Although hardly an adjective, but you never had grammer lessons did you?"

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And the actual next part, oh warning for strong language:

It were a thursday night. Why a thursday night you ask? Because it should have been a Friday. Everyone knows that Thursdays should be fridays, Fridays should be Saturdays. Saturdays and Sundays should remain the same. Monday should be Sunday. Tuesday and Wednesday should be national holidays. I shouldn't have to go to school. I should be paid to sleep all day and write crap. Wow...Maybe I should send this to the prime minister and see his opinons. I could get a petition together! I could stand for election!

It was a thursday night. Harry Potter went into the bathroom. This was normal. You know what WASN'T normal? The fact that he was going into the girls' bathroom! You shouldn't do that Harry! Who knows what you might find. Probably Moaning Myrtle.

"Oooh, hello Harry," said Moaning Myrtle, floating over to Harry, who had just entered. "I love you and want to marry you."

"Sod off," said Harry. He'd had it up to here points with Myrtle hitting on him, spying on him, flushing herself down the toilet, the girl just needed to get a grip. He was being cruel to be kind really. Suffice to say Myrtle blushed silver and floated into a cubicle where she would cry quietly. In the meantime, Harry, found the right sink, and said "hisssssssss" to it, and lo behold, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was revealed. What's with that name by the way? Surely there's only one secret? The Basilisk. Or maybe it should be The Secret Chamber, because no one knew about it? I just think that the Chamber of Secrets is a bit of a misnomer. I mean, maybe I'm being pedantic. You know what, JK can do whatever she likes. Call a secret chamber a chamber of secrets, makes no difference to me, you know.

Right, so chamber open.

Harry whistled. Except the poor boy can't, Dudley tried to teach him once, but he couldn't do it, and so Dudley whacked him upside the head and left him alone. So he couldn't whistle.

"Twit Twooo," he said instead. Nothing happened. He repeated himself. Three or four times. Finally, Draco Malfoy stalked in.

"For goodness sake Potter, what the heck are you doing? First you don't whistle, then you start making odd noises. Are you a cuckoo or something?"

" I'm an owl," Harry explained.

"You sound like a moron."

"Yeah, well this has happened EVERY FUCKING DAY, so maybe you should just have accepted by now that I can't whistle, and got me to say something more obvious like "Hey, everyone, chamber open!"

As Harry said that, a load of students who had been patiently, and not so patiently, waiting outside the bathroom for Harry to give them the oh-so-elusive signal poured into the room and made their way down the tunnel into the chamber, until just Harry and Draco were left in the room, glaring at each other's retinas.

"After you," said Harry, gesturing to the entrance. Draco went, only because of the ladies first rule, and he was far more femenine than Harry.

_He so has a crush on me_, he thought. _But what to do about it?_

And that was why Draco and Ginny met. What? You didn't think it was going to be a D/G fic after all? You thought I was just messing with you? WELL TOO BAD SUCKER. I wasn't messing. I am for real


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews guys :) warms my heart. 

So there Draco was, in the chamber, with a heck of a load of other people. People from all over, from different houses, and different backgrounds. All brought together for the purpose of raving. United by the need to rave. The Sorting Hat would have been proud. Actually, it was there, Neville Longbottom was trying to drink firewhiskey out of it. It was a good rave really, good music, someone had fixed up some strobe lights, whatever they are. A pretty good time, if it's your scene. It's not my scene at all, I wouldn't have been there. Would you? No that there's anything wrong with raves, as I say, it's just not my thing. Nothing personal. God, don't get all touchy. For god's sake, this is just like you, "everyone is entitled to my opinion," that's your idea of justice isn't it? I've got that on a magnet. It's on my fridge. I'm looking at it right now. Cause i can touch type.

It was a perfect rave. UNTIL the DeathEaters attacked! They suddenly apparated in (STFU, Hermione) and one of them, Mulicber probably, made the fatal mistake of turning off the music.

POW KABOOM ZAPPA! Draco exploded into a flurry of movement, cartwheeling across the room, viciously backhanding the DeathEaters, pulling the hair of his own father! He was unstoppable, barrelling into them, attacking from above, from below, and then above again! Clearly, he had been learning to fight somehow, I dunno...he was probably learning in secret. "From a library book," said Hermione. "I thought I told you to STFU!"

"Owww!" said a DeathEater, falling over unconcious. The others followed this strange behaviour.

"How brave!" cried someone from the crowd. It may have been Ernie Macmillian. Or was it NICOLA HALL?

"Never stop the rave," muttered Draco darkly.

"Oooh," said a fangirl that spends too much time on "I didn't know this was a Dark!Draco fic."

"Why are there exclaimations marks after the adjective?" Asked Hermione. Good question, who knows?

Harry Potter moved the DeathEaters off the dance floor. While he did that, he considered changing his name to "Hazza P." He decided against it.

And just then, Ginny Weasley walked in, wearing HOT PANTS. She was wearing HOT PANTS. Yes, she was wearing HOT PANTS. She sauntered in, in said article of clothing, with Blaise Zabini who had the hots for her.

"Ginny," he was saying. "Please can I buy you dinner?" You can buy ME dinner Blaise-baby. Any day of the week. But not circa book four, when no one knew if you were male or female. Or is that book five? I don't know. After that.

"Look, Blaise, it's just not working out," explained Ginny patiently, adjusting the belt she was using to hold up her hot pants. I know what you're thinking; why no capitals. It's a secret, I aint working by your rules.

"Why not Ginny, you're a girl, I'm a boy, as of book four slash five; what's not to work?" Blaise pleaded. Blaise, honey, come plead with me, it'll be much more effective. That Ginny's a lost cause.

"I just don't love you as much as I love my hot pants," said Ginny, with a sad smile. She patted said hot pants.

"But they're great hot pants, it's only natural to like them more than you like me!" This is true. They were wicked hot pants.

"I just have to find a guy that I love more than the hot pants," insisted Ginny, pushing away from Blaise. Blaise finally gave up and went to romance a suit of armour. I don't know why, I mean I'm RIGHT HERE.

Draco, meanwhile, was raving. He saw Ginny, mid-rave. He knew that he had to find out where she had bought those hot pants from.

And that's why Draco went to talk to Ginny. If you didn't realise this was D/G by now, you're a moron. 


	4. Chapter 4

Merci Reviewers. In this chapter, Nicola Hall actually has a conversation. Why can't I write myself into this, if I can write Nicola in? I dunno, I guess there's some sort of magical rule.

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The rave was pretty good, despite the whole Death Eater attack, I think the point is, that if youre at a rave, a fight is likely to break out. And aren't you glad that it was nice and simple and cleaned away like this, instead of all epic and drawn out and Harry's dead! No Harry lives! Somehow! like it is in book seven? Yeah, I definitely prefer this ending...

So Harry was feeling angsty. Why you ask? He was feeling angsty because, when you're at a rave, or at a party, or with a load of friends, it's easy to feel, so very alone. It ws hard being the Boy Who Lived, because everyone was always so busy agreeing with him, they didn't even hear what he was saying. Yah, it was all pretty deep. Oh and he was a bit cut up about Sirius dying. I was cut up about that, cause Sirius is HOT. I love the marauders! Aww, but it's a bit depressing, because you know how all of the marauders met sticky ends. and I love the marauders. But it's okay, I just read Marauder fics all day every day, and that numbs the paint a bit, I guess.

"I'm depressed," said Harry to a nearby suit of armour.

"Can't anyone get some privacy around here?" hissed Blaise who was trying to hit on said suit of armour. He stalked off, upset. You all expect me to call after him, beg him to return and show me a good time, but you're WRONG. I'm over him. He's all wrong for me anyway, I want someone less clingy.

Harry thought about chatting up the suit of armour, but he decided against it, because it wasn't a suit of armour at all, it was a pot plant, and while one might get away with talking to a suit of armour, they most certainly would not get away with talking to a pot plant. Anyway, it was probably infested with nargles. It was a difficult time for Hazza P, he'd thrown the Death Eaters out, they were lying down perhaps having a short nap, in the corridor outside, but he didn't have anyone to talk to. Ernie and Hermione were discussing the finer points of reivions time tables (whether time should be allocated in twenty minutes slots or thirty minutes) and Ron had died. It was very sad, there was a funeral. NICOLA HALL was there. So Harry was all on his lonesome. He decided to pursue his crush, Draco Malfoy. Looking around the large chamber, Harry saw that there were lots of people jumping up and down in the pools of stagnant water that were around the Chamber, lots of people climbing up the statues and a couple of people that were really drunk claiming that they would take on the Basilisk with one hand behind their back. He also saw that Draco was standing with a group of Slytherins and claiming that he had killed the Basiliks himself and just let Harry take the credit. How did Harry see all of this? He was very perceptive.

He made his way over to Harry, but he was stopped by Neville.

"Harry!" cried Neville. "You've gotta help me!" He shook Harry by the shoulders in a way that made Harry really feel the drama and the heat of the moment. Harry looked at Neville seriously.

"What it is Neville?" Hermione would say that this was Harry's "saving people thing" demonstrated to great effect in book five, but Hermione's not here.

"I can't remember where I left my drink!" wailed Neville theatrically. The boy should have been an actor. Harry looked around the room in despair, there were drinks everywhere, littering every surface, drinks half drunk, empty cups, it would be impossible to work out which drink was Neville's! Neville meanwhile was biting his lip in a nervous fashion, hoping beyond hope that the boy with the goofy glasses would help him, but knowing deep down it was unlikely. Harry turned to face him, his face set in a sad, resigned manner, when suddenly BANG ZAP! Harry's super sonic photographic memory which has not been discussed up until this point but has always existed, came into play. Somewhere, in the deep recessive of his short term memory, Harry knew that he had seen Neville drinking something but what? A beer? No...a fruity cocktail? No that wasn't it. He looked around the room, racking his brain, trying to work out what it was that he'd seen. Padma Patil walked past wearing a top hat...That was it! Neville had been drinking firewhiskey out of a hat! The Sorting Hat in fact! Hazza P felt supremely proud of his discovery.

"I am sorry Neville, I don't know, you'll have to ask someone else," he said solemly. Neville's face fell, but that might have been simply because he fell. As in he fainted, because he's a wuss.

"What a wuss," commented Blaise Zabini. "Why didn't you tell him it was the Sorting Hat he'd been drinking from?"

"Drinking out of a hat is beyond crude," said Harry flatly. Blaise shrugged and went off to his room to get sloshed on his own. The rave was rubbish anyway, all he could see was Ginny dancing around in her HOT PANTS. Stupid good for nothing hot pants. Without those hot pants, he would be dancing WITH Ginny right now. He vowed that one day, he would have revenge on the hot pants. The hot pants that had torn his heart apart, viciously broken him away from the love of his life.

"I'm going to kill those hot pants," muttered Blaise, into his drink, looking all sinister.

"I wouldn't," said NICOLA HALL. "That'd be stupid. How do you even kill a pair of hot pants?"

"With murder!" insisted Zabini. You're welcome to him Nicola, he's not very bright. Although you have a boyfriend, so I'm not sure what you think you're doing. But the conversation was not all that interesting, simply Zabini being petulant and Nicola being bored slash patient. Let's move on.

"Gee whizz, those are wicked hot pants," said Draco Malfoy to Ginny Weasley, as they raved.


	5. Chapter 5

Enjoy :) Thank you to my few reviewers. They make me happy.

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Okay guys I made up a joke. Harry Potter walks into a bar, and orders a firewhiskey. So the bartender is all "I'm going to need to see some ID." Harry's like "are you serious?" and the bartender goes "no Harry, your godfather is dead!" Hahaha. Okay it's not as funny as it sounded in my head…never you mind. On with the story.

So there they were, in the Chamber of Secrets, when suddenly, someone tripped over the passed out form of Neville Longbottom, you remember, he passed out just now, I can't remember why but I'm sure you can. So he passed out onto the floor and was probably about to die actually, because if you saw the film then you know that the chamber of secrets has a lot of puddles of water in it, and if Neville had fallen into one of those, then he was a goner because he would have drowned! Oh my god, how sad. I bet NICOLA HALL would have gone to the funeral. Except she was flirting disgustingly with Blaise Zabini, who was trying to kill Ginny Weasley's hot pants, you remember. And Ginny Weasley was raving, with said hot pants.

"Sucks to be you," said Nicola, walking off. Good girl Nicola, you have a boyfriend, and Blaise Zabini is just not right for you. He's crazy you may have noticed. I mean who tries to kill an article of clothing.

" I wish I could kill that article of clothing," muttered Blaise to himself, imagining himself bleaching the hot pants until they were no more, tearing them to shreds, feeding them to his pet Hippogriff. Tut tut, you shouldn't keep them as pets, they're very dangerous, didn't you read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? I did, but I felt it was a bit of a waste of time, because it was so thin. None of my school text books are that thin. If only. It didn't have any questions in either..or exercises. How are you supposed to learn?????? Hogwarts is not a good school if you want my opinion.

My friend Charlotte, sitting next to me has just said "How can you say that Hogwarts is not a good school?" Well my friend Charlotte, I think you'll find I just said it and therefore there is no way I can unsay it except of course for the delete button but we are going to ignore that. Hogwarts was a bad school because it did not have much in the way of student safety, the headmaster was always high, and they had dangerous creatures roaming wild (Snape.) Haha, you thought I was going to write "Hagrid," didn't you? I didn't.

"That article of clothing really has it coming…" said Blaise stalking off out of the Chamber, in the hopes of finding a shredder and then putting the hot pants in there. I don't know how he planned to do this, because he'd have to get the hot pants off Ginny first, and if I had hot pants like that, no way would I give them up without a fight. Luckily for Blaise, Ginny and Hot Pants Lovers of the world, Blaise didn't get to the shredder, instead he bumped into a girl who spilt her drink all over him.

"Urg! Who even drinks coffee at this time of night?" He asked rhetorically.

"I do!" said the girl, who was called Samantha. Blaise looked at her carefully.

"Are you high?" he asked warily.

"Yes," answered Samantha. "Will you be my boyfriend?" Blaise looked taken aback, but put on a calculating look.

"If you had to choose between me, and hot pants, which would you choose?"

"Coffee!" trilled Samantha. Blaise shrugged.

"Good enough."

Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Ginny let Draco know that she had made the hot pants herself. Draco thought this was very industrious of her. He suggested she make more and sell them. She agreed that this was a good idea, especially from a Slytherin. He said that she'd need the money from the hot pants to feed her ridiculously large family. She said that it was better to have parents who loved her than parents who loved money. He said that his parents loved him AND they loved money. Which was okay because he loved money too. It was a family activity.

"Malfoy," said Ginny, mid-rave. "Sod off."


	6. Chapter 6

I love my reviewers! And also, Peacethroughcoffee is having an illicit relationship with Blaise Zabini.

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Neville came around slowly. Luckily for him, he hadn't landed in one of the ominous pools of water, also now that I think of it, that water was probably really really gross. Littered with Basiliks droppings or...whatever it is that Basiliks excrete. What do snakes excrete? I don't know...do they even have ..holes? From which to excrete. This whole thing is getting too disgusting. Let's forget it. Neville woke up and blinked a couple of times, he realised that there was something on his head, groggily, he picked it up. Huh, a coffee cup. Interesting. Dragging himself to his feet, he looked around the room. The rave was still going crazy. Some slower music was playing now, so that people were jumping up and down in time to it, and it sounded like an elephant, but that might have been the acoustics in the chamber. It was just as well that they were in a hidden room, else someone certainly would have heard them. He vaguely wondered where the Slytherins had been holding their raves up until now. And he wished that he could have been in Slytherin. Because the Gryffindor parties sucked.

"You should have told me, I'd happily have put you there," said the Sorting Hat, which was sitting nearby. He didn't point out that Neville would have been bullied to within an inch of his life, and spent most of his free time brushing Draco Malfoy's hair.

"My drink!" exclaimed Neville, grabbing the Sorting Hat who shrieked, and magicked up a grand piano which fell out of him and squished Neville. The hat had only intended to knock him out, but he squished him good. In fact, he died. NICOLA HALL was going to go the funeral, but she went to Nando's instead.

"Have a day!" yelled a student. I don't feel like introducing any new characters, so it'll have to be just a student. No, it's not Nicola. I can't remember where I left Nicola. Anyway, she's not in the Chamber, she's gone. She fell inside the Basilisk and is currently playing xylophone on it's ribs. Do snakes have ribs? Who knows.

Harry, who had been morosely sitting on a piece of rubble, as like the ones that littered the Chamber, was thinking about Ron. Ron had been his best friend. When Ron died, in a mysterious accident, Harry had spiralled into depression. Hermione had said it was "a sad occasion," but it sounded like she had read it out of a hallmark card, and Harry didn't feel as though she really meant it. In any case, Hermione was spending all of her time studying and snuggling with Ernie, and she wasn't really around for emotional confrontation. This shows Hermione in a pretty bad light, I guess, but you know, people deal with grief differently. The way that Hermione chose to deal with the death of her friend was that she pretended it didn't really happen. Which is all you can do really. And perhaps she spent some nights crying into Ernie's shoulder and then saying that it was stress and she was tired and they'd both know but not say it, and maybe she wished that she could confide in Harry but she couldn't find the words and was scared that he would say them instead, and maybe she missed Ron utterly and was just finding comfort in the only way she could.

Or maybe she was a whore.

"Happy New Year!" Yelled Lavender Brown before collapsing against Theo Nott. "You smell weird," she said.

"You're drunk."

"So true."

Harry frowned, it wasn't New Years, it wasn't even close. He wished that people could control their alcohol intake. What if Voldemort burst in right now? Then what would they do? Half of them too sloshed to stand on their own two feet.

"Harry," said Ginny, sliding up next to him. Harry was surprised at this, because he had expected Ginny to remain on the dance floor, the hot pants seemed to demand it. "Do you ever think about Tom Riddle?"

"You what?" asked Harry, confused about this question, especially because he had just been thinking about Voldemort, and that Ginny had just called Voldemort 'Tom Riddle' like they were BFFs or something. And also it felt like Ginny was about to announce that she had managed to fix the diary and bring Tom back from the dead and wasn't that great?

"Wow Harry, you look like you've seen a ghost. Relax, it's not like I managed to fix the diary and brought Tom back from the dead, which would be great," babbled Ginny.

"I'm leaving now Ginny," said Harry, standing up and backing away.

"You're going further into the Chamber..." Ginny pointed out.

"Yes. That is my intention. Goodbye," said Harry, running off further into the chamber.

After running blindly into the Chamber, Harry turned a corner and fell. He got up. He ran. He fell. He got up, he looked behind him, and HOLY CRAP THERE WAS TOM RIDDLE! Oh wait no sorry, that's a rock. Harry pushed the rock over, stupid good for nothing rock. Never did anything for anyone. I'm going to go now, I have a meeting in room twenty seven, you know I have a life. I can't sit here and write crap all day long.

Harry walked further into the chamber, and found himself in a tunnel, with low stone walls and damp ground beneath his feet. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but he really didn't feel like going back to the rave, so decided to carry on walking a bit. Until he turned a corner a froze. To one side of the room he could see the gilt frame of the Mirror of Erised. Moving to see it clearly, Harry peered in, curious to know what his heart's desire would be. To his intense shock, he saw Remus Lupin and Sirius Black playing checkers.

"Wow," said Harry to himself. "Unexpected." To even more shock, Sirius and Remus looked up. Sirius dropped the mug he had been drinking from. Remus sighed.

"Oh this is going to be fun," Remus muttered, getting up and moving towards Harry. Harry reached forward to touch the cold glass of the mirror...except his hand went straight through- Just as Remus stepped through the frame.

Harry fainted.


End file.
